Capital offense

Lansing is central to a new Detroit hardcore history book

Freelance musicwriter Tony Rettman was a kid in suburban New Jersey when hardcore punk hit inthe early ‘80s. His older brother was a college radio program director whobrought home the freshest singles from then-new imprints, like Dischord, SSTand, of course, Touch and Go.

“Being 11 or 12, Ireally connected with Touch and Go records more than the others,” Rettman saidduring a phone interview from his home in New York. “The guys weren’t that mucholder than I was, and I thought that was pretty cool. There were kids in highschool putting out records and touring the country.”

It didn’t hurt thatthe Lansing-born punk label had its own propaganda machinery in the fanzine ofthe same name, full of sophomoric humor and sardonic prose by Tesco Vee and“D.S.” Dave Stimson.

“Probably I likedthat because it was super-juvenile and right on my level,” Rettman said."At that time, I was learning about the...”— he laughed — “male reproductive system. I don’t know. Itwas so juvenile and well-written and had a lot of cool bands in it.”

The fact that a kidfrom New Jersey, with no connections to Detroit or Lansing, spent a good chunkof his high school years and, later, college student loan money tracking downbootlegs of obscure 7-inch records from this neck of the woods says plentyabout the impact this music had, despite being basically overlooked by therecent stream of American punk histories documenting the “important” bands ofthe era.

That is until now.Last summer, Revelation Records issued Rettman’s first book, “Why Be SomethingThat You’re Not: Detroit Hardcore 1979–1985,” a quick-hitting oral history ofthe regional hardcore punk scene that flares up and burns out about as quicklyas the bands it documents. If for nothing else, die-hard fans and casual musichistorians should pick this up for the 80 pages of discography, venue and showhistory, and photo and flyer gallery that close out the book.

A no-brainercompanion to the recently released “Touch and Go” fanzine anthology, “Why BeSomething That You’re Not” tells the story of how a census worker and a schoolteacher from Lansing, high school skaters from Toledo and Detroit, and a fewrogue, college-age groups from Lansing and Kalamazoo booked their own tours,staged mind-blowing hometown gigs featuring the biggest bands in hardcore andrecorded some of the most aggressive, honest music of an era, from the “Processof Elimination” compilation EP to unheard demos by Detroit’s Bored Youth.

To do this, Rettmancompiled interviews with the usual suspects of the “Detroit” scene — JohnBrannon (Negative Approach), Tesco Vee (Touch and Go, The Meatment), SteveShelley (The Crucifucks), Steve Miller (The Fix), Barry Henssler (The Necros),Kenny Knott (Violent Apathy) — as well as plenty of lesser-known players andsupporters, and sewed it together with his own deft, succinct segues.

Considering thehours of tape Rettman retrieved from interivews, the book’s brevity andmatter-of-fact tone is a feat in itself — no doubt a nod to the raging,minute-long songs and Midwestern workman’s attitude that inspired it.

“If you getanything, it’s that it was this brief golden moment that sort of got tired. Bythe time 1983 happens, you burned out on ‘1-2-3-4,1-2-3-4!’ I just wanted towork in these broad strokes and get the story out in the same way it happened.”

A couple of glaringomissions from the book are the voices of Necros bassist Corey Rusk, whoeventually took over the label side of Touch and Go and continues to run ittoday, and Crucifucks vocalist and local troublemaker Doc Dart. For the former,it wasn’t for lack of trying, but the same can’t be said for the latter.Rettman said he decided not to contact Dart after reading a 2009 Vice Magazineinterview with the notorious Okemos resident and former frontman of TheCrucifucks, opting to talk with Shelley, who took up drums for godheadunderground rock group Sonic Youth shortly after splitting from the Crucifucksin the ‘80s.

As with any scene,if not more so, punks have their pissing matches — in this case, anentertaining hatefest between The Fix’s Steve Miller and Necros’ BarryHenssler.

“It’s reallymind-blowing that over 30 years or something that these guys still holdgrudges, but at the other end, it’s really entertaining and people seem torespond to it and think it’s really funny.”

On his visit firstvisit to Michigan, Rettman checked out historical sites first-hand, visitingthe spaces that housed venues like The Freezer Theater, The Club House and CityClub in Detroit. In Lansing, Vee and Miller took him to the former Club Doobie,in Haslett, today the Watershed Tavern and Grill.

“They were pointingand saying, ‘That’s where Black Flag set up there. People were slam dancinghere,” Rettman said. “They told me how they saw Lydia Lunch, Screaming Urge,all these weird, obscure bands. Today, it’s kind of a karaoke bar. That waskind of bizarre.”

In Kalamazoo, theViolent Apathy guys showed him where they would host touring acts like BlackFlag, Minor Threat and the Circle Jerks.

“I grew up in NewJersey, where it’s not necessarily a cultural mecca, but you’re close enough toNew York and Philadelphia,” Rettman said. “It was cool to see these guys weregoing it on their own and doing it for themselves in these little towns.”